


Start Again

by Mixk



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixk/pseuds/Mixk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewrite of episode 9 & 10.</p><p>"May I ask you something with the hope that you won't take offense?"</p><p>The question makes Donald smile, and so he replies, "You already know it's going to offend me. Ask anyway."</p><p>"What happened to Charles Hansen?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start Again

"May I ask you something with the hope that you won't take offense?"

The question makes Donald smile, and so he replies, "You already know it's going to offend me. Ask anyway."

"What happened to Charles Hansen?"

Donald's breath hitches in his throat for a second when the name hits him, catching him off guard. Whatever question he'd expected of Reddington, this definitely wasn't it. He turns to look at Reddington, wondering how in the hell the man's come to learn about Chuck. Though, if he's honest with himself, Donald shouldn't be surprised, knowing what he knows about the criminal.

He's unable to fight back the tears that start clouding his vision when, despite his better judgment, he answers the other man.

"He left me."

"You were engaged," Reddington states in that calm tone of his, which he has kept so far, even when the situation all but seems hopeless.

"To him, yeah," Donald says, swallowing the lump in his throat. "But it was my engagement with you that ended that relationship.

"Five years, I chased you. Five years trying to make my name. Look where it's gotten me."

To my death bed, Donald doesn't say out loud. He's dying, because of his efforts to protect the life of a man he's tried to catch in vain. Ruined his life over. He can see it now, can finally hear Chuck's words, how right they sounded all along.

"Leave with me, Don," Chuck had said. "You can't keep living like this. It's toxic, I can see it."

What Chuck saw, Donald couldn't. He wishes now he'd listened. It was hard saying no to the job, when he found himself caught in the middle of mission upon mission.

——————————

When Donald comes to, the agonizing pain in his thigh is numbed, replaced by an uncomfortable stiffness in his neck. He's in a hospital bed, alive, and all in one piece. He can move the toes of his left leg, and as he slumps his head back down on the soft pillow in relief, he silently thanks whatever superior force operating in this universe for that.

He'd lost all hope of coming out of that nightmare alive, and in the best case scenario, he'd have lost his leg. A doctor promptly comes to check in on him, telling him he should make a full recovery. The cauterization not only stabilized him, but allowed for continued irrigation of the rest of his leg. Reddington literally saved Donald's life _and_ his leg, the son of a bitch. The thought of owing his life to Reddington leaves Donald conflicted.

They've given Donald a morphine pump, that he can press as often as he wants if the need arises, and he's thankful for that. He hasn't felt this exhausted in a while. He realizes that's because he never gave himself the time to rest long enough to listen to his tired body. He's always kept working, barely getting enough sleep to keep functioning. It's all coming crashing down on him now, and so he starts drifting off easily.

A knock brings Donald back to full alertness, directing his gaze at the door.

"Come in," he calls out, and the sight that greets him next leaves him breathless. A lot of things has happened in the past 24 hours, things that kept surprising Donald, but he thought the surprises would stop now that he was in the hospital. Seeing his ex-fiancé is yet another surprise he hadn't expected.

"Chuck? Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I got a call," Chuck says, face ridden with worry. But damn does he looks good, Donald can't help but think. He hasn't seen Chuck in five years, and all that time spent apart hasn't been able to quell Donald's love for Chuck. It's only laid dormant all this time, and it's rising up again now that Chuck's standing in front of him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Donald replies, clearing his dry throat. "Yeah, long story, uh. I'm fine, but...they called you?"

"Well, bureau did," Chuck says as he steps closer to the bed, closer for Donald to see.

Chuck looks bigger than Donald remembers, his face sharper, sporting a light scruff. He's still wearing that same leather jacket Donald's always known him in, and the thought warms Donald up. Chuck looks amazing. In that one second they make eye contact, Reddington's speech comes back to Donald. Reddington's speech about all the things he wants to enjoy in life. It had made Donald tremble with envy, had made him realize just how little he'd enjoyed his own life. It had made Donald promise to himself that were he to make it out alive, he would start living for himself, and not for his job anymore.

"I guess I'm still on as your next of kin," Chuck adds with a soft smile.

"Right, your name's still on that list," Donald says, remembering now he never changed it. "I meant to take it off, but I've just been so busy, I—"

"No, no, no, it's ok," Chuck cuts him off, his hand resting upon Donald's. "I get it."

Donald looks up at Chuck then, surprised by the gesture. It would be so easy to pretend, in that one moment, that nothing's wrong between them. That they're still together. Donald wants nothing more than to lose himself in that beautiful blue gaze, the way he used to. He's lost that right a long time ago though, and so he looks away.

"Are you really ok, Don?" Chuck asks again, squeezing Donald's hand in his.

Donald wants to lie again and say he is, but he can't bring himself to. Not when Chuck's looking at him like this. Chuck's always hated when Donald lied to him, it's part of the reason why they're no longer together. He looks down at their hands, noticing the silver band adorning Chuck's finger.

"You're engaged?" he asks, effectively deflecting Chuck's question.

"Ah, no," Chuck says as he takes his hand back, playing with the ring around his finger. "This is..."

"It's mine, isn't it?" Donald asks as the realization hits him, like a sledgehammer. His heart speeds up, his eyes searching for Chuck's, but the latter avoids him. Hope blooms in Donald's chest nonetheless, lifting him up from the fear and pain that had been plaguing him so far.

"Don..."

"You mind staying for a few minutes?" Don asks—almost begs, actually—because there's nothing else he wants but Chuck. He's always wanted Chuck, never stopped loving him, and never thought he could ever have Chuck again. He thought his job was all he would ever have.

"No, of course," Chuck says, taking a chair to sit beside him. Donald reaches out for Chuck's hand again, his own personal lifeline, and Chuck gives it to him, amazingly.

Chuck ends up staying a lot longer than a few minutes, the two of them catching up, chatting for hours, until someone comes to kick Chuck out. Donald had forgotten how easy it is, being with Chuck, but he remembers now why he never got over Chuck. Why he knew he would never get over Chuck.

"Chuck," Donald says as Chuck's about to leave. "I...Thank you, for dropping by."

"Anytime, Don," Chuck tells him, the corner of his lips quirking up in a half grin, one Donald remembers all too well.

"Can I see you again?" he finds the courage to say at last, pulse beating fast as he waits for Chuck's answer, the latter's back turned to Donald, hand on the doorknob.

"Don, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You were right," Donald says, taking a quick breath before continuing, "You were right. I can't live this life anymore. I...I was blind. I want more than this job. I want to live long enough to see the world."

Chuck turns back around to face him, his guard worn down, face looking as vulnerable as Donald remembers it the day Chuck left him.

"What are you saying, Don?"

"I'm saying I want you," Donald answers, holding onto Chuck's gaze. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it, I'm sorry I put my job before you."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," Donald replies, hoping to convey just how certain he is through his tone. "Take me anywhere you want, I'll follow."

"Even to the other side of the world?" Chuck lets out with a chuckle.

"You can take me to New Zealand for all I care," Donald adds, a carefree smile spreading across his face. "Just be there with me."

"You're not going to miss the thrill of the field? All the action?"

"I've had enough action to last me a lifetime, Chuck," Donald counters, pursing his lips together. His heart still isn't at ease, what with his question left unanswered. "Not sure I'll ever be cleared to go on the field again, anyway. So, is that a yes?"

"When are you getting out of the hospital?"

"Doctor said at least a couple of weeks, why?"

"I'll come tomorrow," Chuck says. "We can talk a little more then, all right? See how things go."

Chuck comes up to him to drop a kiss on his forehead, hand cupping Donald's cheek, and just like that, Chuck's words sound like a promise. He holds onto Chuck's wrist, mouthing a silent thank you before finally letting him go.

"Sleep well, Don," Chuck says as he's about to leave for good, a soft smile on his face.

"I will," Don says as he returns Chuck's smile. "Good night, Chuck."

For the first time in a long while, Donald finally looks forward to tomorrow.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically me indulging in my own fantasy, what I would have loved for Donald. It would have made the show perfect to me. Let me know what you think, comments are always appreciated ! (Also, if you have plot bunnies for this pairing, give them to me! I'm all tapped out, sadly, after this one little fic...)


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